


Lost

by Alphinss



Series: Fictober [7]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Time Travel, Young Katsuki Yuuri, Young Victor Nikiforov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 10:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16216721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alphinss/pseuds/Alphinss
Summary: Yuuri wakes up, Victor’s side of the bed is cold and his body is far smaller than it should be. One thing that he is sure of, he needs Victor.Written for #fictober18 day 7





	Lost

Yuuri blinked, his eyes opening slowly. This morning felt different and he wasn’t sure why. He reached over to try and find Victor on the other side of the bed. The man was never up before him. Yuuri’s grasp came up short. In fact, his bed didn’t even feel big enough to house a second person. What the hell? 

Yuuri rocketed up from his bed. However, before he could even think about looking around the room he was stumped at the body that was before him. He was tiny. What the fuck was going on?! He willed one of the overly small hands to move. It followed his will. What the actual fuck! Why was his body so small? This was not right. Not right at all. He wanted to scream. 

Yuuri finally managed to force his eyes from the ridiculously small body, instead, looking around at the room that he was in. He recognised it almost instantly. It was his old bedroom; the one in Hasetsu. There were several Victor posters on the wall but Victor was young in them. He couldn’t have been older than fourteen. His hair was long and flowing. 

Before Yuuri could panic anymore than he already was a small knock landed on his door. It was quickly pushed open to reveal his mother. Yuuri looked wide eyed at the very much alive woman that stood before him. He had to stop himself from weeping as she spoke. It was all he could do to remain frozen in place. His throat was tight and he was finding it difficult to breathe.  

“Morning Yuuri,” the woman said with a warm smile. Yuuri could only gawk at her as she presses a small kiss to his forehead. 

“Are you alright sweetheart?” she hummed as she pressed a concerned hand to his forehead. “You don’t feel ill, do you?” 

Yuuri blinked several times to avoid the threatening waterfall. Instead, he pulled his mum into the tightest hug, that his now much smaller arms, would allow. 

“Ah, still sleepy I see,” she said with a fond smile as are hugged him back. Yuuri had missed these hugs so much.   
“Oh Yuuri,” she said pulling from the hug. “There was a young man who rang the inn asking for you about fifteen minutes ago.” She stroked his hair as she spoke. 

“I took his number and I said you’d ring him back. Said his name was Vitya, I think, sounded foreign-“ 

She continued to speak but Yuuri didn’t hear the words. Victor. Victor had rung him! Yuuri scrambled out of his bed as quickly as he could. 

“Where’s the number?” His eyes were wide and his tone was breathless. 

“Oh,” his mum gave a small frown as though attempting to figure what had caused such a reaction from her son. “It’s by the phone, on the-“ 

Yuuri was already out of the room. He loved his mum. But right now he needed to figure out what the hell was going on. Victor was sure to have answers. Or at least be able to reassure him that he wasn’t going insane. That was definitely an option that was on the cards at the moment.

Yuuri almost knocked the phone from the small table that it was situated on as he grabbed at the piece of paper. He tried to smash the number in so quickly that he managed to misdial twice. He somehow spoke to two different angry Russians that were not happy getting calls from Japan. 

He took a deep breath to calm himself before he attempted the number a third time. After two rings a voice answered Yuuri’s call. 

“Hello” was said in soft Russian. 

“Vitya” Yuuri almost cried in relief at the much younger sounding voice of his husband. But it was certainly him. 

“Yuuri, my Yuuri?” Victor begged in Russian as he heard the voice on the other side of the world. 

“Yes Victor, I’m here.” Yuuri found the sound of his voice strange as he spoke, even more so as he was speaking in Russian. But the name of his husband felt as natural as breathing. He would never in a million lifetimes be able to explain how much he loved the man he was speaking to. He adored everything about him. 

“What’s going on Vitya? I don’t understand? Where are you?” Yuuri began to panic as he spoke. He needed Victor. He always had. He didn’t think he could bear to be separated from him. 

“It’s alright my little Katsudon take a breath. I’m in Russia…back in my parent’s house.” Yuuri flinched at that. Victor had never had a great relationship with his parents as a young man. He had moved out of their house at sixteen to live in his own flat; after his debut in the senior division. There had been some reconciliation in later life, but they would never be the people that Victor deserved.

“I also seem to have shrunk, which is a little weird, to be honest.” Victor hummed in slight amusement.

“Well, at least you don’t look like an eight year old” Yuuri huffed.

“Nine”

“What?” Yuuri questioned.

“Well according to my father’s newspaper it’s the second of April 2001, which would make you nine, and me thirteen.” Yuuri could practically see the smile on the other man’s face.

Yuuri took a second to let the shock of that statement sink in. He was nine. Fucking nine. He had to go through school again and all his ice skating training. Worst of all there was no way he would be able to see Victor for at least a year and that was only if he made juniors and Victor hadn’t moved up to seniors. 

“Please let this be a dream” Yuuri wined to his husband in depressed Russian. Victor gave a small chuckle.

“Have you tried pinching yourself love” Yuuri did, then another whine broke from his at the pain on his arm. “No, it didn’t work for me, either” Victor hummed.

However, their conversation was cut far shorter than either of them wanted it to be. Both Yuuri’s Mother and father had been standing behind their son for about a minute, listening in bafflement as their nine year old spoke rapidly in a language that they had never heard before. 

“Yuuri” his mother called in a voice that was weaker than her usual one. “You have practice soon. You need to get ready sweetheart.” 

“Alright, mum” Yuuri nodded unaware of the bafflement of his parents as he turned his attention back to Victor and his language back to Russian. 

“I have to go Vitya. I love you and I’ll speak to you tonight. We’ll work this out. I promise.” 

“I know my Yuuri. I love you too. Have a good day” 

“Bye Vitya” With that reluctant farewell, Yuuri hung up the phone with a sigh. 

“I’ll go and get ready now” Yuuri nodded at his parents. He was still oblivious to the baffled looks that followed him up the stairs. 

It was only years of repetition that let Yuuri fall into the mindset that was his regular schedule. He pulled his school bag, that he assumed had the necessary homework in, along with his training bags for both ballet and skating with a fond smile on his face. This had been his routine for so many years that there was no way that he could ever forget it. 

His day passed in a strange haze of confusion and disorientation for both him and those around him. Yuuri failed to realise that he was not acting like the nine-year-old version of himself acted on a normal day to day basis. It was hard to act as though you were an ignorant child when you were really a forty-year-old man that had years of education and experience in competing and training in professional figure skating, as well as being an internationally known name: both for his own skating and his marriage to the Victor Nikiforov. 

Minako-Sensei was left in bafflement as Yuuri performed stretches and positions without complaint, correcting and criticising his own form and posture. He also spoke over other students, asking for confirmation on several movements. The Yuuri she had had the previous Friday would never have had the confidence to ask such questions. 

The trend continued. Yuuri was so lost in his own confused stream of thought that he failed to realise that he had finished all the work that was presented to him in his classes, far quicker than any of those around him. His mind was on Victor and how on Earth he was going to see the man he loved, in less than a year. So as he was presented with questions that were, to his mind, far too simple, he did them as quickly as possible in an attempt to get back to thinking about Victor. 

Finally, his school day ended and he sprinted to Ice Castle. He knew there was a forty minute gap between school ending and training begging. But he wanted to test out his new, or old he supposed, body and see what he could do before anyone else got there. He knew that this body would not do all that he told it. But he needed to know how much work he had to do. If he wanted to make juniors, if he wanted to see Victor, he would have to work himself to the bone. He wanted to know how far he had to go. 

He sprinted through the entrance, greeting the woman on reception before he dived into the changing rooms. Yuuri still had his gym kit on under his uniform. He quickly stuffed his school clothes into one of the lockers provided before fastening his skates on tightly. 

The rink was thankfully empty as it was between classes. Yuuri still had a whole half hour before the rest of his class showed. Yuuri started with doing a light skate around the rink to get his bearings. His body felt strange as he went through the motions of moving. His legs were too small and unruly. His hands seemed to have a mind of their own. However, after a few laps, he seemed to have gained a little more control. At least he hadn’t fallen yet. 

Yurri stood at the centre of the rink after about ten minutes of his slow warm up. He had decided to test out a simple routine that he had worked on with a few of his younger students when he had been prepping them for their first competitions. It contained all singles and doubles, although the footwork was a little complex. So he may trip over his own feet with the way he was feeling with his new body.   
   
Raising his arms Yuuri began the routine, listening to silent music as it played in his mind. He slowed the routine down as he attempted the jumps and the difficult manoeuvres. He fell on the first jump and then on the second. However on the third, he managed to make, a single only and Yuuri was willing to admit that the landing was a little shaky. He finished the routine with as many wrong moves as he had made right ones. 

Yuuri took a small breather. His stamina was no way near what it had been in the future, or maybe the past. He wasn’t sure. However due to his love of food, even at a young age, it was still better than many other nine-year-olds; both ice skaters and not. So he took a minute and then began the routine again. This time he was far more steady and had greater control over his movements. He still fell four times, but he managed a double toe loop; the landing being far more steady than those of the first time.

Yuuri had over ten minutes before the rest of the members of the club began to arrive. He decided that he had time to run through a little more of a complex routine. He would just lower the jump difficulty to singles and doubles. He may attempt to throw a triple in there. But he didn’t want to get injured. Especially one that would potentially one that could put him out of competition for next season. It may be his only chance to see Victor in the near future.

Yuuri adopted the position for Yuuri on ice. It had always been a favourite routine of his. It demonstrated who he was and what he stood for. It was one that he always fell back on if a routine was needed. Even if he was lowering the difficulty it was a routine that he knew, almost better than he knew himself. Once he started the routine, there was little that could stop him.

The music in his head started and with it so did his routine. Yuuri felt himself relax into the familiar steps. Even with his smaller and weaker body he enjoyed the freedom that skating this routine gave him. Yuuri lowered all of his quads to doubles and anything else to a single. He managed his first jump combination but fell on the second and third.

Yuuri calmed himself and his breathing as he entered the second half of his routine. He knew that the footwork was still sloppy, but it was the best that he could do with the unruly nature of a body that was far too small. He was panting harshly as he managed to stagger through the next two combinations using only singles on each of the jumps. However, that was to conserve energy. Yuuri was determined to make the last toe loop a quad, even if he fell in the process.

Taking a large gulp of air he got his form as close to perfect as it could be with his new body. He threw himself from the ice twisting his body rapidly. He felt the rotations, all four, as he went through the move that he had done more times than he could count. As he landed his feet were wobbly and his breath was harsh, but he remained on his feet. He smiled. Less work than he had thought, it seemed.

“Yuuri” was almost yelled across the small ice rink. Yuuri’s head whipped around to see his coach standing by the barrier. His eyes were hard and he looked with slight anger but also disbelief at the young form of Yuuri.

Without more than a seconds hesitation, Yuuri rushed across the ice to stand before the man that he had not seen in nearly thirty years. He looked wide eyed at Coach Nakamura. The man was in his late fifties, small and unassuming but had been a very good skater in his youth. He had never been competitive in the figure skating world, instead, much of his skating being for his own pleasure.

The man did, however, have a pretty comprehensive view of basic skating. The man was the reason that Ice Castle was still functioning. He had moved back to Hastesu after his mother had become ill and had taken up the role of teacher at the skating rink. He taught classes four days a week and three Saturdays a month, Yuuri attended classes three nights a week as well as for three hours on a Saturday.

“Yuuri” Coach Nakamura had a stern look and spoke much more quietly as Yuuri stood before him at the barrier. “What was that?”

“Ummm” Yuuri mumbled as he rubbed at the back of his head. Even at forty he still had a problem with disappointing authority figures. Especially ones that really did make him feel as though he were nine again.

“It was a quad toe loop-“ Yuuri gave a small hopeful smile at the man that stood before him. Before quickly adding “Coach” as the frown didn’t lift from the man’s face.

The man looked as though he was going to say something, however before he could a group of six shrieking children ran from the changing rooms and toward the benches. Nakamura’s attention was taken from Yuuri as he was forced to look toward the children.

“No running” he ordered to a chorus of ‘yes coach’ and ‘sorry coach’.

“Coach can you do up my skates please?” and so it was that the attention was fully drawn from Yuuri and instead focused on doing up six pairs of skates and then another four as the rest of the class arrived.

The class began and Yuuri, as was his specialty, attempted to fall into the background. Although it seemed that with the skills he had as a forty year old it was very difficult to pass as a nine year old.

When Yuuri had actually been nine he had been passable in iceskating. He had only started skating due to the beauty that was Victor and Victor had only entered the televised junior devision at twelve. Therefore it had only been around ten month since Yuuri had started skating.

Of course due to his ballet experience and general grace and flexibility he had an advantage on the ice, over the others that he trained with. However that did not mean that he did not have the occasional stumble and lack of confidence that can with the territory of having social anxiety. Therefore when Nakamura Sensei determined that they would be learning how to do a double sawchow today rather than the single that they had been working on so far Yuuri had to repress a sigh. He knew the man was testing him.

Yuuri had, along with the others in the group fallen several times. However it had not been intentional. His new body was still something that he was getting used to. His legs didn’t move as he was used to them moving and his landings were messy and sloppy.

However after Yuuri had been through the motions, getting a little more control over his limbs he managed to land the spin to a rather high standard for what was supposed to be a first attempt. However, rather than complementing himself as the few others standing around him had been planning on doing, he instead began to mutter to himself. Yuuri criticised his own form and the angle of the jump before he attempted the jump again. Coach Nakamura stared at him.

The rest of practice continued in much the same way as Yuuri continued to get used to his much smaller body and critique his own jumps. As practice ended he was pulled aside as the rest of the members of the group went to change, exhausted and ready to go home.

“Yuuri, explain it to me.” Coach Nakamura demanded with a small scowl.

Ah, well” Yuuri looked at his still skate-clad feet attempting to come up with an excuse as to why he had suddenly improved and could now do a quad toe loop when last week he was sure that his nine-year-old self, had not been able to do more than a double.

“Secret training” Yuuri mumbled uncertainly, still avoiding looking at his coach. He may be forty but he was still scared as hell of angering the man before him. Even if he had been ninety he was sure that he would not have grown out of that.

“Secret training?” his coach questioned with disbelief in his tone. Yuri supposed this was what he was going to have to go with now. So he took a breath and quickly tried to fabricate a comprehensive story.

“Victor” he said louder than he had intended to, he winced at the volume of his own voice. “I saw Victor Nikiforov do quads in the juniors, and, well, I really want to skate against him one day…and, well-“

Yuuri chanced a glance up at Coach Nakamura and was relieved at the small smile that he saw on the man’s face. It seemed that he was buying Yuuri’s story.

“So you’ve been coming to the rink to train on the jump for, what? two months now? Since the Junior Russian Nationals?”

Yuuri gave a quick nod. It seemed he was safe for now.

* * *

“Arms Victor! Keep your arms straight”

It was the day before Victor was set to fly to China for the juniors competition. Yuuri was going to be there. He was going to see Yuuri. He could barley contain his excitement. His jumps were suffering as a result of his emotion. He couldn’t keep himself in check. He just needed to see Yuuri. His Yuuri. It was less than twenty-four hours.

“That’s it for today. Remember what I said.”

Victor could barely remember his own name. All he could think about was Yuuri . His perfect smile, his shy eyes, the way he wore his hair, the way he got a little chubby in the offseason, the way he was self conscious about it. How gorgeous his arse looked in the off season. Victor stopped himself. It was not appropriate to think about the nine, nearly ten year old’s arse, even if, mentally, they were both in their thirties.

Victor couldn’t sleep that night. The plane journey the next morning was hell. Each second felt like an hour. He wanted to be in China and he wanted to be there now. He didn’t know how much longer he could wait. His whole, much smaller, body seemed to tremble in anticipation.

He wanted Yuuri, he needed Yuuri. All he could think about was Yuuri. He had not been able to talk to his husband as much as he would have wanted to. The cost of international phone calls was not cheap and both sets of parents had been rather angry at the additional charges to their bill. Victor had honestly been surprised that his parents had even noticed. He supposed their attention would always be negative.

Victor and Yuuri had instead tried to send letters. They were slow and unsatisfying. They had the occasional phone call, but as both of them refused to divulge who it was that they were talking to, to their parents, the calls were completely infrequent and mostly self funded. Phone boxes had become a go-to for both boys. However these calls were more infrequent that the letters. It had been a whole month since the last one.

Victor barrelled into the hotel lobby as fast as his thirteen year old legs could carry him. He looked around desperately for any sign of his husband. The man was still his husband, even if there were no official documents. Even if there was no ring. A ring that he missed everyday. A ring that made him feel naked without it. As he looked around the room he rubbed the patch of skin where the ring should have been. Yuuri was not there.

Victor’s coach followed behind him with a scowl on his face. The man was not Yakov. The man was not the same coach that he had grown to love. The man was temporary. The man would be gone within the year. Victor did not like him.

“I wish you would show the same level of enthusiasm in practice,” the man scowled. Victor didn’t even look at him.

“Come, it’s been a long day. You should sleep.”

Reluctant as he was, Victor agreed with his coach. The flight had been eight hours, with an hour drive either side. They had been traveling a lot that day. He really should rest. He had a big day of competition tomorrow. Even if Yuuri was the only thing that he could think about, he was sure to see the love of his life tomorrow.

* * *

  
Yuuri looked out over the sea of people. He could feel a tightness in his chest that he had not felt in several years. His breathing was getting faster and his eyes felt full. He was meant to be seeing Victor. That was what had been keeping him together. He was meant to be seeing his husband.

Yuuri had had so much change in the last six months. He had lost his family, he had lost his friends. He was back in his nine year old body, working his ass off to get to see Victor again. He had got a new coach, a new training regime, a new life. It was terrifying. He was all alone. He was without the parents that knew him, the friends that understood him, the people that loved him. He was without his support network. Victor was the only one there. He needed him. He needed him now. He had waited long enough.

“Come Yuuri” his new coach, Coach Ushi said with a small smile. “It’s time for the warmup”

Yuuri still couldn’t see Victor. It was time to warm up and Victor wasn’t there. Why wasn’t Victor there? Was Victor here at all? Yuuri was beginning to panic. His breath was coming faster, Yuuri was starting to panic. His coach hadn’t noticed. His coach didn’t know the signs.

“Get your skates on Yuuri” It was all Yuuri could do to pull the laces tighter. He was standing by the side of the rink in mere seconds. He still couldn’t see Victor. Where was he? He still couldn’t see him.

The ice was just a step away, but Yuuri didn’t think that he could do it. Victor wasn’t here. That was all that this had been for. But Victor wasn’t here. Yuuri’s breathing was fast, too fast. A tear had managed to trickle its way down its face. He couldn’t do this. Victor wasn’t here. He couldn’t do it.

A hand was on his shoulder.

Yuuri turned around.

He was there, Yuuri could see him right before his eyes. His husband; the shining silver hair, the beautiful blue eyes. He was perfect, so perfect.

“Victor” Yuuri almost sobbed. He threw himself into the man’s arms.

“Yuuri” The arms pulled him tightly to his much smaller chest. Yuuri didn’t mind. He felt right. He felt, for the first time in six months, like he was home.

“I missed you” Victor whispered in Japanese, as he ran a hand across the jet black hair.

“I missed you too” Yuuri whispered back in Russian. He didn’t want to let go. He was finally back where he belonged. He was in his husband’s arms.

“You’re so short Yuuri” Victor laughed

Yuuri huffed and pulled himself back slightly from Victor’s grasp.

“What about you?” he laughed “have you seen that hair?”

“Excuse me” Victor looked offended. Yuuri smiled. “My hair is a national icon”

“Of course it is Victor” Yuuri’s fingers clutched tighter into Victor’s jacket. “You keep telling yourself that.” Victor’s smile was wide and bright.

“Thank you, Yuuri. I will”

Whatever happened now, it didn’t matter. Victor was here. Victor was real, he wasn’t just a figment of Yuuri’s imagination. They were together. They could do this. Whatever happened in life it didn’t matter. As long as he had Victor by his side.

“I love you, Victor”

“I love you too Yuuri” 


End file.
